Slash and Burn: the Malfoy Affair
by NaughtyTautology
Summary: Tired of melodramatic angst, cliched plot twists, and sappy, sickening dialogue? This is the slash romance for you. Set in 3rd year, it follows Harry's bungling attempts to seduce Draco.. (now complete with unnecessary addendum!)
1. Token Realization Chapter

"These things always happen at the breakfast table," Hermione stated primly.  
  
"Why breakfast?" grumbled Ron, "what's wrong with lunch?" He was not a morning person, and the Great Hall seemed particularly loud today.  
  
"Breakfast is closer to dreamtime," Hermione answered, trying to infuse her voice with an aura of the mystical. "Or the author just wants to set things up early in the day."   
  
"Oh.... here, Harry, have some toast or something." Ron and Hermione turned to their friend, who was leaning forward, elbows propped on the table, staring with glazed, lovelorn eyes across the hall. At none other than the one and only Draco Malfoy.   
  
"Is it me, or has Draco - I mean- Malfoy become much more.. muscle..bound since.. uh - yesterday?" Having rather botched this sentence, Harry now tried to sigh for dramatic effect. But he almost choked on his porridge; he hated mornings too.  
  
"No, he's the same scrawny, pale wretch as usual," corrected Hermione.  
  
"Well, that's your opinion. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes: she might have been a morning person, but she was not in the mood for relativistic rhapsodizing. "What do you say, Ron?"  
  
"I can't believe you're having this conversation!" Harry, meanwhile, went back to his oogling and sighing. "Oh, cut that out!" Ron noticed Hermione was frowning disapprovingly. "Don't look at me like that - in a conservative British boarding school like this someone has to be skeptical... if not overtly hostile," he added with a pout.  
  
"British Boarding School." Hermione said pointedly.  
  
"Er - can you two continue this conversation elsewhere?" asked Harry. "I'm trying to have a tortured dialogue with my nagging inner voice."  
  
"Come on, let's go to class." Hermione dragged Ron away. "Although I can't stand Professor Trelawney," she added on the way out.  
  
"Ah, alone at last!" exclaimed Harry, even though the sound level in the hall rose as a food fight broke out at the nearby Ravenclaw table.  
  
_ "If only I was alone with HIM!"_ answered the inner voice.  
  
"If only I were," corrected Harry outloud; no one heard him above the squealing Ravenclaw who'd just been pelted with elderberry jam.  
  
_ "Er - yes, ALONE with him! and look deep into those pale.. gray.. steely ... -sometimes opal -"  
_  
"I don't like opal," Harry muttered under his toast. A biscuit flew past his ear.  
  
_ "Oh, he's standing up - what grace and eloquence-"_ Harry frowned. _"-how beautiful - and now he's maybe taller than me too..."  
_  
"Taller than I am!" snapped Harry. Neville looked at him from across the table.   
  
"Isn't it time for class?" asked Neville concernedly.   
  
"Yes, let's go," said Harry, and not waiting for Neville, he grabbed his books and hurried out. "I can see our real battle is going to take place on the grounds of grammar," he muttered to himself, "since at base I agree with what you're saying."

* * *

Divination class was difficult for Harry. Not because he was bad at divination (he had learned all the tell-tale signs for death by now), but because he could not stop thinking about Draco Malfoy. He stared into his cup of tea leaves.  
  
_ "That looks just like his two eyes - narrow slits that seem to be deeper-"_ Harry frowned again; seeing Malfoy in his tea leaves was not going to impress Trelawney.   
  
"I hope you're feeling better now," Ron said, leaning over to Harry. "Nothing like divinations to put me in a good mood. I'm dying on Tuesday by lightning strike."  
  
"All I can see is Malfoy." Harry muttered.  
  
_ "Not that I'm complaining. Too bad he's not here, then I wouldn't have to look in my tea for him, searching for a way out, for someone who will love him-"_  
  
"Hold up, I got tangled in that last clause." Harry frowned more severely. His forehead began to hurt.   
  
"What?" asked Ron obliviously.  
  
At that moment, Trelawney swanned over to the table and looked dramatically into Harry's tea cup. "Ahhhhh, I see you are torn, Harry..."   
  
"Between love and hatred? - desire and duty?" he asked hopefully.  
  
"No! Torn limb from limb by wild beasts!" She shook her head solemnly, "I divine you will be ill-received by someone in the future." She returned to her desk and fell into her seat, apparently tired from all the hard work.  
  
"Sirius Black, I bet," Ron whispered. "He wants to kill you after all."  
  
_ "NOT BY DRACO! OHhhh, what if he doesn't know my love? he's probably too lost in his own wonderings-"  
_  
"Please, please - let me do the rhapsodizing," urged Harry.   
  
Ron scowled. "Are you hearing voices again?"  
  
"Ron," said Harry, a wistful twinkle in his eye, "I must make my love known to Malfoy- I mean Draco -"   
  
_ "-dear, darling - de......u.."_  
  
"delectable - ahem," Harry saw Ron's appalled expression and continued quickly, "OR Else-- or else I will have to put up with this inner voice." Ron didn't looked convinced. "FOR EVER!" Harry nodded for more emphasis.  
  
"I like the sounds of that," Trewlawney encouraged loftily from her desk, "Eternity is a recurrent theme in divination."

* * *

Double Potions. Snape stalked about the room, his greasy hair reflecting light in various directions.   
  
"Today we will be arduously concocting a potion that produces the same effect as could be achieved in 5 seconds with a first year transfiguration spell."   
  
Confused silence from the class.  
  
"OR," Snape continued severely, "We will create a potion to repel werewolves."  
  
"He hates Professor Lupin," Hermione mouthed at Harry.  
  
"They're secretly lovers," Harry mouthed back.  
  
"Five points from Gryffindor."  
  
"But professor," Harry protested, "Can't we make a love potion instead?"   
  
"Ten points from Gryffindor." With no further adieu, Snape went about assigning partners.  
  
_"Oh he'll have to pair me with Draco"   
_  
"That's for sure," Harry thought, "It always goes that way."  
  
_ "Then I can watch his delicate hands - stare into those icy depths-  
_  
"and drown with desire..."   
  
_ "Ohhhh!!"_ Harry sighed outwardly.  
  
"Potter and Longbottom." Neville looked relieved, Harry appalled.  
  
"What!"  
  
"Call me a glutton for punishment, but I'm curious to see what you two produce," sneered Snape, "Certainly not the proper potion, but if we're lucky you may come up with one that _kills_ a werewolf."   
  
Harry glared at the Slytherins who were laughing at the next table. Malfoy in particular was grinning nastily.  
  
_"Is that a flicker of desire across those frosty... cold.. gray... icy... freezing.._  
  
"4 Kelvin," Harry added ironically. He could overhear Malfoy sneering to his friends.   
  
"Potter's even got his temperatures all wrong. Step four involves Celsius, not Kelvin.."   
  
"Quiet, Malfoy," Harry hissed.   
  
_ "But how can I confess my love if I keep misleading him??"_  
  
"Later!" Harry muttered under his breath.   
  
"Harry..." Neville looked scared, as usual. "I accidently skipped step one... and... you're talking to yourself again..."   
  
"Oh, uh - it's nothing."  
  
_ "Tonight we will get to the bottom of this.. maybe to the bottom of Him, hehe- that would be nice, very nice - maybe eve-"  
_  
Harry made a disapproving growl at the pun; Neville nervously dropped his phial of gnat blood.

* * *

Late that night, Hermione was surprised to see Harry in the library. More surprised to find him reading books and taking notes.   
  
"Well this is out of character - what are you doing, Harry?" she sat at his table.  
  
"Drawing up plans," he answered.  
  
_"Seduction 101, I like the sound of that."_  
  
Hermione did not like the sound of it. "What plans - are you going to get in trouble again?"  
  
"I have to let Draco know how I feel."  
  
"So he can hex you?"  
  
"No, so he can fall into my arms - because you know he feels the same way I do - then we can share a night of mad Passion!"  
  
Hermione scowled.  
  
"And after that, we'll be confused and there will be Tension. But no doubt, it will all be resolved in my favour at some indefinite point in the future."  
  
_ "But first Passion - lots of it"_ Harry nodded self assuredly.  
  
"For the purposes of Plot, I'll humour you.. What are your grand plans?" asked Hermione with a smirk.  
  
"I've already sent Hedwig out with a mysterious love note - well, three actually, in case she drops the first one or something. So he should get that by... well, maybe by now already. Then I can make eyes at him in the hall, and he'll understand.  
  
"If that doesn't work, I'll actually HAND him a note when we meet by chance on a midnight run to the kitchen." He paused thoughtfully. "Or maybe in that case I'll just dispense with the notes and take advantage of the conveniently placed broom closet--"  
  
"Ahem!"  
  
"And if he remains stubbornly self-deluded, I can always poison hi-"  
  
_ "-'LOVE POTION-'"_  
  
"-love potion, yes." Harry finished hastily. "That should do it."  
  
"Frankly, Harry, I hope for your sake that the first plan works, because you are really quite bad at potions," Hermione said. "Why don't you get some sleep now? You seem to have planned enough for one night."  
  
Harry brightened. "Good. On to a night of sleepless self-doubt and sexual frustration!" He started to pack his books up.  
  
_ "And dreaaaaaaaaammsss. oh think what i can do to him in my dreammmssss - wrap my arms around his pale torso - pale like lilies of the field, pale like the moon, pale like untouched snow - writhing in passion, whilst-"  
_  
"whilst?!"  
  
_ "-while I kiss those sweet lips and that secretly-never-wanted-to-do-anything-but-give-in-to-me neck "  
_  
"I'd better get some sleep," Harry muttered as he went down the empty hall, "now it's lapsing into German sentence structure. I would be stuck with an inner voice like this, wouldn't I?"  
  
_ "-and the hair!! - ohhh the glorious-"_  
  
"Shut up!" 


	2. Thats Not How it Goes

It was the next morning when Hermione noticed the envelope on her pillow. She picked it up curiously ("My Beloved") and opened it.  
  
_"Dear Draco."_  
  
"Oh dear," she murmured. "I should stop reading this right now.... but then, voyeurism is what drives these sorts of stories, so let's get on with it."  
  
_"I know all about it."_  
  
"Ah, good opening line, Harry." Hermione nodded in approval. "Gets the reader interested and makes him - or her, in this unfortunate case - want to read more."  
  
_"I admire the way you can put on such a strong and nonchalant expression all the time. It reflects strength of character. However, these sorts of problems can't be avoided. That is to say, I know your father abuses you."_  
  
"WHAT - he spoils him rotten!"   
  
_"And I know he inflicts the sort of scars that don't go away so easily, but time will help. I want to help too."  
_  
"This is not a love letter! this is an invitation to a psychiatrist's office! HARRY!!"   
  
There was movement at the next bed over. "Who are you talking to - have you got Harry Potter in here?" asked a sleepy voice.  
  
"Oh, put your glasses on - I'm just.. reading a letter."  
  
"A love letter from Harry Potter?"  
  
"Er - well, yes. it is."  
  
"Hermione!"  
  
"Go get dressed!" Hermione snapped. Nosey friends disuaded, she turned back to the letter.  
  
_"You see, over these past few years I've become very fond of you despite our outward quarrels. I want to fix things. I don't want to let him hurt you anymore and I don't want us to be enemies anymore. Please let me help you. I have things to say - words that cannot be written - feelings that can't be expressed with the quill - please meet me at the astronomy tower Tuesday at midnight."_  
  
"For tea and crackers," grumbled Hermione as she inspected the signature. It was indeed from Harry. "This is utter rubbish - good thing Malfoy didn't get it." She paused. "On the other hand, it's probably for the best that I pass it on to him at breakfast."

* * *

Breakfast was noisy again, but at least there were no food fights. A slightly more serious fight was brewing: the minute Hermione sat down, Harry scowled at her.  
  
"Hermione, if you were jealous of my affections for Draco, all you had to do was say something."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Hermione looked from Harry, whose expression revealed nothing, to Ron.  
  
Ron pouted. "I'm not talking to him anymore." He pushed eggs around his plate absent-mindedly. "The toast is stale too."  
  
"Hermione! What's this about me sending you love notes!!?"  
  
"Oh! Did you hear about that already?" she chuckled. "No - really, we need to talk. Hedwig must have put your letter to Malfoy on MY BED!"  
  
"WHAT!"  
  
"It's addressed to 'my beloved' - perhaps she made a mistake?"   
  
"No. I told her specifically to take it to HIM!"  
  
Hermione sighed. "Perhaps she decided it would be in your best interests if he didn't receive it!" She produced said letter from her bag. "Have you READ this? it's terrible!"  
  
Harry stared at her in horror. _"I can't believe she read my letter!"  
_  
"I can't believe you read my letter!"   
  
"How can you think his father abuses him!?"  
  
"He's gone mad," grumbled Ron from behind a spoon of porridge. "You should have heard him going on about Malfoy's Veela lineage this morning..."  
  
"Of course he does!" Harry ignored Ron. "That's why Draco is so tragic - tragic and beautiful." He sighed for effect.  
  
"I say we take him to Madame Pomfrey. He's sick." Ron said.  
  
"Ah," Harry brightened. "That might be a good idea - Draco will find strength in himself if he has to comfort me while I am ill and in need of love! Then he will recognize his true feelings for me!"   
  
_ "How caring he will be in sympathy for me - how beautiful he will be in love with me - how dazzling white his teeth and hair-"_  
  
"No sense of adverbs OR parallel structure.." Harry grumbled under his breath. He noticed the confused silence around him. "But, er - the hospital plan - yes, that's a last resort, I think - self-inflicted injury is never fun. Except of course in the angst-filled, suicidal respect."  
  
"I'm not working with him in Care of Magical Creatures," Ron said, wide-eyed with sincerity. "Malfoy can have him for a partner, that's what I say."  
  
"Oh, you're a good friend, Ron."  
  
"Not talking to you."  
  
"Hey Harry," said Hermione suddenly. "Didn't you say you sent Hedwig out with three love letters? - I only got one."  
  
"Uh oh..."

* * *

"Plan 2: Ask Dumbledore for Advice."   
  
After Charms class (Charms with Hufflepuff), Harry had stopped by Dumbledore's office. Now he was having tea and biscuits with the headmaster and making innocuous conversation.  
  
"Harry," said Dumbledore finally, "I know you should be in potions class right now..."  
  
_ "His eyes are twinkling merrily"_  
  
"Quiet - they always do that." Harry thought to himself. He was concentrating very hard on not appearing to be having a conversation with himself.  
  
"Did you have something.. else to talk about?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
"Yes, actually."  
  
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "About Sirius Black? Or dementors?"  
  
"Er.. well maybe in a little bit - first I wanted to - really, I needed to tell someone about my deep-abiding love for Draco Malfoy."  
  
Dumbledore was silent.  
  
"That is, I don't know what to do, and you're the wise, most powerful wizard in the land-"  
  
_ "-and you have twinkly eyes!"_  
  
Harry coughed. "And you have lots of 'life experience' - whatever that may be-" Dumbledore's quiet stare made him conscious of his rambling. "That is, I thought you might be able to help me," he finished hastily.  
  
Dumbledore was silent for another moment. "Well, Harry. Wouldn't you prefer to solve this sort of problem on your own? That's the joy and sorrow of gaining your so-called 'life-experience:' you don't know what to do."

* * *

"Damned twinkling eyes," Harry muttered to himself as he hastened to Defense Against the Dark Arts. _"That was useless! Since when does Dumbledore refuse to help me?"_  
  
He reached the classroom and was about to open the door when he spotted Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle coming down the hall.  
  
"_YE GODS-"_ Harry was too busy staring to take issue with the nagging inner voice's choice of language _"-IT'S HIM!"_  
  
"It is HE!" (Author stands corrected.)  
  
"Potter talking to himself again -- and what are you staring at?" sneered Malfoy maliciously. Crabbe and Goyle walked up to Harry and stood on either side of him.  
  
"Uh-" Harry blushed.  
  
_ "WHERE'S MY LOVE NOTE WHEN I NEED IT NOW!!"_  
  
"Uh - HEY!" Harry had an idea. "Don't insult me, Malfoy - why don't we finish this fight - not during class time - meet me at the astronomy tower tonight at midnight!"  
  
"So your friends can ambush me? I don't think so, Potter."  
  
"But - It'll just be the two of us," he winked clumsily.   
  
Malfoy scoffed. "WORSE STILL! Now get out of the way or I'll be in trouble with that shabby Lupin git." He motioned to Crabbe and Goyle, who combined their weight to slam Harry into the stone wall. They entered the classroom.  
  
_ "He's so beautiful when he's angry - besides he got the message, I could tell from the way his steel gray eyes sparkled with righteous indignation and interest. MAYBE he got one of the other love notes!! TONIGHT HE SHALL COME!"_  
  
"Shall is only used in first person," mumbled Harry, trying to adjust his glasses as he recovered from the attack.   
  
_ "Whatever! - when he comes we won't do anymore talking!"_  
  
"That's the spirit." 


	3. Dramatic Tension?

Late Tuesday Night:   
  
Neville Longbottom was trying to study in the Gryffindor common room. His bedroom was too noisy, what with his friends gossiping about Harry Potter, Sirius Black, and now the mysterious love note that had been sent to Hermione. Neville tried valiantly to stay awake, despite the boring diagrams on the vascular structure of Nightshade.  
  
"And I thought I liked Herbology.." he murmured.  
  
At that moment, Ginny Weasley came running down the girls' stairs. She looked distraught and clutched a white envelope in her hand.   
  
"I can't believe it!" she exclaimed.  
  
"What's the matter, Ginny?" he asked.  
  
"Harry - Harry Potter sent me a love letter," she stammered, clearly trying to keep away tears, "and it's all wrong!"  
  
Neville frowned. "I thought you liked him?"  
  
"Yes, I thought I'd like this too- BUT MY HAIR IS RED! NOT PLATINUM BLONDE!" She threw the envelope on the table.   
  
"Oh, that's odd - may I look at it?" asked Neville.  
  
"I don't care!"  
  
Neville fumbled trying to get the letter out, but he read it quickly enough once he had. "This doesn't seem to be .. addressed to you."  
  
"It doesn't have a name."  
  
"But it's not for Hermione either."  
  
"Is that true about her getting one too!?"  
  
"It was a mistake, I thought?"  
  
"This has to be a mistake too. My hair's not blonde, and I certainly don't look like 'a flashing emerald lighting up the sky during a Quidditch match!'" She folded her arms grumpily.  
  
"Hm. There's a girl on Hufflepuff team who has blonde hair." Neville offered. "What's her name? - Affery Flintwitch?"  
  
"Isn't that a Dickens character, Neville?"  
  
"Oh.. right. I guess Hufflepuff robes wouldn't be emerald anyway.." he frowned and the two of them sat in ponderous silence. "It's hard being secondary characters who don't have the wherewithal to figure things out on our own, isn't it?"  
  
"We're just PAWNS in other people's tawdry love affairs! I'm not taking part in this. Where he is?" Ginny stood up abruptly.  
  
"Harry went out about a half hour ago..."   
  
She looked at her watch. "To the astronomy tower, of course! Well I'm not going. Let him sit up there alone." She turned on her heel and stormed back up the stairs.

* * *

Harry was indeed sitting alone in the astronomy tower. The wind swept around him, and he scowled in the cold.  
  
_"It's so bone-chillingly cold yet I have no Draco to warm me up! O WOE!"_  
  
"He's probably cold-blooded anyway," Harry scoffed outloud.  
  
_ "Was that sarcasm, Harry Potter? CAN I BE HAVING A MOMENT OF SELF-DOUBT!?"_   
  
"I just noticed I hadn't been through the token period of denial yet, and now's as good a time as any."  
  
_"Right, because when he shows up then there will be no more doubt!"  
_  
Harry got up and began pacing in circles. "Where is Malfoy anyway!?"  
  
_"Perhaps he's trying to tear himself away from his friends, to try to invent excuses for himself-"  
_  
"Or maybe having a tortured monologue like this..." Harry grumbled. "_Torturous_ is a better word for it."  
  
_ "I cannot give up hope! Perservation is --"_  
  
"No multisyllabic words! "  
  
_ "I mean - Preserverence?"_  
  
"Just stop now"  
  
_ "Perserverance?"_  
  
"It's been an hour. I'm going to bed!"   
  
_"Only an hour! I must wait - what if he COMES!?"  
_  
"Then he can wait. I'm going!"   
  
_ "Staying!"_  
  
"GOING!"  
  
_"STAYING!"_ Harry found himself rooted to the spot, unable to make up his mind, but lurching back and forth like a fledgling about to fall off a branch.   
  
"Ok..." He froze a moment. "Why don't I on something else - like.. his hands?"  
  
_"SO BEAUTIFUL - long graceful fingers and pale untouched skin..."_ The inner voice thus distracted, Harry snuck out of the astronomy tower and back to his room.

* * *

"Plan 3: Poiso- Love Potion"  
  
For the third breakfast in a row, Harry was not interested in Ron's and Hermione's stories of class or Quidditch. He was staring intently across two tables at Malfoy's glass of juice.  
  
_ "As soon as he drinks that he'll be in love with ME!"_  
  
"And Snape thinks I'm bad at potions. I just need a little.. inspiration. I defy even Hermione to make such a sure-fire potion in just one night!"  
  
Hermione looked at him skeptically. "I heard my name. And by the way - we found the second love note."  
  
"YEAH!" said Ron angrily, "My sister got it!"  
  
"Oh," Harry looked embarrassed, "I really have to talk to Hedwig about that."   
  
_ "HE'S DRINKING!"_  
  
"He's going to drink!" Harry yelped.  
  
"Now what?!"  
  
"Love potion - invisibility cloak- his drink!" Harry was beyond complete sentences at this point as Malfoy raised the glass to his lips and took a sip. And promptly spit out the concoction all over his plate.  
  
"WHAT!! - Who put turpentine in my orange juice!?" Much confusion at the Slytherin table.  
  
Hermione laughed, and Ron too - in spite of himself. "That's pretty good, Harry."  
  
"I told you not to try a love potion," Hermione said matter-of-factly.  
  
_"I don't understand - its supposed to taste like whatever drink its in!!"  
  
_ "It's supposed to be tasteless," Harry said crossly, folding his arms.  
  
"Hahah - turpentine - you really are bad at potions, aren't you?" laughed Ron.  
  
Meanwhile Malfoy turned around and glared directly at Harry. "Trying to poison me now, are you, Potter?!" he hissed across the room.  
  
"Who is poisoning whom ? and without my permission at that...." Professor Snape had appeared at Malfoy's side, and by now the entire Great Hall was watching.  
  
"Potter, and this." Malfoy primly held up his glass.   
  
Snape sniffed it and scowled. "Potter. Detention."  
  
"But-"  
  
"For the rest of the week."   
  
"I have Quidditch practice-"  
  
"For the irresponsible and incompetent use of advanced potions."  
  
Harry didn't argue, although he wasn't convinced it was irresponsible - incompetent, yes. But one thing was clear.  
  
_ "I need a more direct approach - PLAN FIVE-_  
  
"Four"   
  
_ "-whatever! - DIRECT CONFRONTATION AT THIS SATURDAY'S QUIDDITCH MATCH!"_   
  



	4. DIRECT CONFRONTATION, I SAID

Quidditch now replaced by detention with Snape, the rest of the week went by slowly, even though the Saturday match loomed in Harry's mind "_-like the third game in a best-out-of-three-series - like the inevitable call of the grim reaper - like the APOCALYPTIC DAY OF JUDGMENT THAT IT IS!!"_  
  
"..little redundant, isn't that?" Harry grumbled.  
  
"Potter. The reason I asked you to scrub the floor is that it requires no talking. Not to me, not to yourself, not even to the floor - intellectual match for you though it may be..." Snape trailed off irritably and returned to his reading at the desk. The potions classroom was dark and oppressive as usual, and there were strange substances on the floor that Harry had never noticed before..  
  
_ "I wonder why Draco is being so stubborn. He has to give in SOON. On Saturday I will win him over with my declaration of love. then he will tell me he feels the same, and his dad abuses him and he is going to refuse to take the Dark Mark and Pansy Parkinson-"_  
  
"-Pansy Parkinson!" Harry stopped too late.  
  
Snape glanced up from his book (_"Managing Moods: A Werewolf's Guide to That Time of the Month"_). "Potter, is one to assume you meant that failed love potion for Miss Parkinson?"  
_  
"Uh oh !! he found out it was a love potion!!"_  
  
"' course he did, he's the potions master."  
  
"Potter." It was not a question.  
  
_ "THINK FAST!"_  
  
"Er - that's an interesting book you have there, Professor Snape.. Sir."   
  
Snape couldn't resist. "You're not the only one trying to keep dark secrets at this school," he sneered with a flicker of a grin.  
_  
"What does THAT mean? Is Snape a werewolf??? where's Draco when I need someone to hug and cry into their shoulder?!"_  
  
If Snape was at all amused by Harry's confused expression, he did not show it. He put his book down slowly and produced a small white envelope. "Speaking of which, does this look familiar?"  
  
_ "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"_  
  
"............" Harry stared.  
  
"I thought so."  
  
_ "What was in that letter? WHICH ONE IS THAT? I'M GONNA KILL THAT BIRD!"_  
  
"Allow me to give a dramatic reading," said Snape, and he proceeded to read in his black, sardonic voice. "Dear Slytherin Sex God..."  
  
Luckily, Harry did not have to hear the rest; he fainted dead away.   


* * *

  
Saturday was blustery and overcast. "Least it's not a raging thunderstorm like in movie 3," Harry thought. As soon as the game began, Slytherin took possession of the Quaffle. The play-by-pay announcer was a Gryffindor, and made no attempts to hide her bias, since a healthy dislike of Slytherin was a requirement for the post.  
  
"Weasley just barely escaped that bludger, poor guy - and there's Figgs with the Quaffle-"  
  
Harry ignored these developments. He would act first, because optimally he could make his confession to Malfoy THEN get the Snitch.   
  
_ "I'll have them both!!"_  
  
"Right." He scanned the field - finally caught sight of Malfoy hovering near the Slytherin goal. Then Malfoy dove - after the snitch? "Ok, Action!" Harry zoomed towards him. "MALFOY!" He called through the wind.  
  
Malfoy ignored him, and continued on his course.   
  
Harry smirked. "Well I'm faster." He soon caught up, and then paced his rival. "Hey, didn't you hear me?!" he called.  
  
"Buzz off, Potter!"  
  
"You didn't show up Tuesday night!!"   
  
"I didn't make you any promises!"  
  
"You're supposed to be unable to deny your subconscious urges! It has nothing to do with PROM---" a bludger shot past Harry's head, and he was nearly swept off course. "hey!" Malfoy was still chasing the snitch. After cutting through the middle of a quaffle pass, Harry caught up to him again. "I WASN'T DONE TALKING TO YOU!"  
  
"THEN TALK!" Malfoy turned his bitter gaze towards Harry.  
_  
"AHHH THE EYES!"_  
  
"Ah - Right! --" he had to raise his voice above the wind, "I've noticed that we have a lot in common- since you are really the most misunderstood person I know-"  
  
"THE POINT, POTTER-"   
  
"WE SHOULD BE TOGETHER!"  
  
Malfoy looked appalled.  
  
"Don't look at me like that - I know your true feelings!--" Another bludger zoomed by and Malfoy took the opportunity to fly off in the opposite direction. Harry grimaced and chased after him. "BE HONEST WITH YOURSELF! You must overcome your past history and admit your feelings for me! Don't you want to find HAPPINESS? - Maybe stay at Hogwarts with me over winter break? Move in with me this summer? Join the good guys and fight Voldemort against the backdrop of a blooming romantic relationship?? Call me cutesy pet names?? Express your feelings for me to the lyrics of bad pop songs?? Talk to me in italics??! Change your name to Malfoi??!! BEAR MY CHILD???!!!"  
  
"POTTER!" Malfoy had been fumbling around in his robes looking for his wand, which he now pointed at Harry's broom. "I'm not gay and neither are you! Come back down to EARTH, why don't you!? _IMPEDIMENTA_!"   
  
The spell stopped Harry's broom, but he continued, and flew right off the end of it. "DEATH FOR THE SAKE OF LOVE!! HOW ROMANTIC!!" he cried as he plunged towards the ground.  


* * *

  
Hours Later, Harry awoke in the infirmary wing, a place he had become all too familiar with over the years. His head ached, but other than that he didn't feel any pain.  
  
"Good, you're alive," said Hermione primly.  
  
"Madam Pomfrey says you were suffering from extra-normal sensory overload- er something like that - and a lot of broken bones -- but she's cured all that!" Ron looked very pleased with this.  
  
"What?" Harry looked around the room, confused. "What did I have?"  
  
"Delusions of Romantic Grandeur is the non-medical term, I think," said Hermione.  
  
"Hey, who brought the flowers?" Harry asked, spotting a big bouquet of daisies.  
  
"No one knows," answered Ron warily.  
  
"Maybe-" started Harry.  
  
"I thought she said she fixed that!" Ron turned to Hermione wide eyed.  
  
"She did, let him finish."   
  
"Uh... maybe it was from Ginny?" asked Harry.  
  
"Hey, here comes Hedwig," announced Ron, as the owl flew in through the open window to Harry's left.  
  
"GOOD, we need to talk!" Harry sat up in bed. Hedwig flew over and nipped at his ear affectionately. "Don't try that with me - I know you've been sending my letters all over to the wrong peo- what's this?" He took a new note from Hedwig's leg.  
  
"Oh, what's it say?" asked Hermione, curiously trying to lean over.  
  
"I'll read it out loud, I suppose," said Harry, unravelling it. "Ok, it reads:  
  
_'Potter,  
  
Despite all the times I've cursed you, I was rather unnerved to see you nearly kill yourself in such a pathetic manner this afternoon. Try to be a bit more careful in the future. And stop sending sappy love notes all over the school and spend your time studying instead. Unless, that is, you want to spend more detention time with me.  
  
Yours,  
Slytherin Sex God,   
a.k.a Professor Snape_' - AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"  
  
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" Harry fell back on the pillow white faced; Ron and Hermione went through various expressions of horror and disgust.  
  
"Harry, what have you done!?" cried Ron  
  
"I don't know... but we'd better ask Madam Pomfrey to fix that too," he answered  
  
"I hope he was being facetious.." started Hermione.  
  
"We could investigate, but that would be another story," said Ron.  
  
"One that I don't have the energy to go into right now," sighed Harry. "Bloody Malfoy," he added. "This is all his fault. Wait 'til I see him next. I'll curse him from here to the next continent..." 


	5. Unnecessary Addendum

It took Harry a full week to recover from the "Delusions of Romantic Grandeur," and the exact cause and nature of the phenomenon were never explained to his full satisfaction. Even towards the end of his recovery, Harry still suspected that Malfoy himself had "cast some spell to make me think that way - probably because he secretly wishes I were in love him with!" Luckily, Ron and Hermione had been around to point out to Harry that he was still under the influence.

  
As for Hedwig, Harry had to sit her down and lecture her on the evils of passing notes out to the wrong people. "Professor Snape thinks I'm in love with him now!!" Not to mention that Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom had been avoiding him as well. Hedwig's only explanation of her behavior was the usual affectionate nip on Harry's ear; he replied by sending her all the way to Egypt with a four-word note addressed to Ron's brother Bill.

_"Bill,_

__

_ Hello!_

__

_ Sincerely,_

_ Harry"_

__

Of course Hermione had protested, arguing that the owl simply knew better than to deliver any such incriminating letters to Malfoy. Although, even she couldn't defend the Snape episode.

Slowly relationships began to heal - necessarily in the case of Neville, since Harry and he depended on each other's help to pass potions. Snape continued his usual biting remarks in class, but made no further mention of the note or flowers, and Harry was forced to conclude that it had all been a joke. Ron forgave Harry his "illness" but became immediately wary anytime Harry mentioned anything about Malfoys, inner thoughts, or interior design. Harry did not often mention interior design.

  
Draco Malfoy did not take any special pains to avoid Harry, but whenever their eyes met, he did seem a bit nervous. Harry assumed it was because Malfoy feared another blundering attack - at least, that is what he told Hermione and Ron. But there was still some nagging part of him that believed Malfoy was actually worried that prolonged exposure to Harry would result in his losing his cool and giving in to those long-suppressed desires.

  
"And when that day comes, I'll know just what to do."  
  



End file.
